


Blackmail

by Hyx_Sydin



Series: Trope Bingo [16]
Category: Backstrom (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyx_Sydin/pseuds/Hyx_Sydin
Summary: “You took him from me Everett Backstrom, and now you're gonna give him back. Do we have an understanding?”





	Blackmail

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the _Extortion/Blackmail_ square of my [Trope Bingo Round 9](https://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/203194.html) card.
> 
> I had no idea what to name this.... unimaginative title is unimaginative.

Backstrom woke to find himself tied to his chair by ropes wrapped around his chest, trapping his arms, and around his ankles, binding him to his footstool. There was also something shoved into his mouth and kept there by tape.

“Finally,” a voice said from behind him. “I was beginning to think I'd have to wake you myself.” 

A man moved into view and Backstrom looked carefully but didn't recognise him. 

“Hello Everett Backstrom, my name is Robin Sutteridge. I apologise for the . . . bondage.” The man's smile was sharp and there was a twinkle in his eye. “Although I've heard that you might actually enjoy it. All I really want is to have a civil conversation with you and I needed to ensure that you'd listen to **everything** I have to say.”

The man moved out of view again and Backstrom took the opportunity to test his bonds but found that the rope was tied securely. As he sagged in defeat his fingers brushed against something, which he discovered was his phone. 

“Gregory Valentine,” Robin Sutteridge said as he dropped a photograph of said man leaving the barge onto Backstrom’s lap. 

Backstrom spared it only a glance as he kept his eyes on the other man, all the while attempting to unlock his phone and then call one of his peons.

“Your tenant. A fence. Gorgeous young gay man.” Robin Sutteridge turned the chair Valentine usually sat on around, dropped into it and peered closely at Backstrom. “Does he let you fuck him, instead of paying rent? Or does he pay rent but the sex is so that you don’t turn him in for his profession? Or do you just enjoy fucking him?”

Despite knowing the futility of it, Backstrom surged against the ropes holding him and growled threats at the man. His phone had slipped away and under him as he moved, adding to his frustration and anger.

“Does your people know about him? Know about his past?” The bastard grinned as he held up a photograph of an obviously underaged and strung out Valentine propositioning a John. “What would they say if they knew?”

Backstrom continued to glare at the other man, teeth clamped down on whatever was stuffed into his mouth in frustration at not being able to voice his many thoughts on the situation, and his captor.

Robin Sutteridge tossed the photo to join the other one on Backstrom’s lap. "Of course they need never find out. If you do me a favour.” 

His smile was all teeth. Backstrom lifted his right hand as high as he could, then showed him the middle finger.

Robin Sutteridge sighed as he leaned forward in his seat but when he spoke there was steel in his voice and a hard look in his eyes. "I knew you'd be resistant. Let me make this perfectly clear Everett Backstrom, if you do not do as I say I will destroy your career and your little boy toy's life.”

Backstrom watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew two syringes filled with a clear liquid. 

“I've been watching little Gregory Valentine for a long time now; waiting for him to slip up. But it seems living with you has helped keep him clean; so we're going to change that. These,” he said, holding up the syringes. “Are filled with heroin. You're going to wait till he falls asleep and then you're going to inject him with one. Then later, before he comes down, you're going to inject him with the other.”

Robin Sutteridge stood, reaching into his shirt pocket with the hand not holding the syringes and withdrew a card. "My contact details for after you've given him the second syringe.” He then placed everything on the table beside Backstrom before disappearing behind him again.

“This will go to your Captain if I do not hear from you in the next 12 hours.” He said, coming into view holding a folder. Taking his seat once again, Robin Sutteridge opened it to reveal a stack of photographs which he held up so that Backstrom could see them as he flipped through them. Young Valentine with drugs and Johns, Backstrom showing prostitutes out, Valentine with shady people exchanging money for things, **Valentine and Backstrom naked together on the barge**.

“Like I said, I've been watching Valentine for a long time.” Backstrom remembered Valentine saying that he'd gotten his tattoos to hide the burn marks the bastard that had taken and raped him had inflicted on him. One or two of the photos had obviously been from before because Valentine's skin had been unmarked. _Why? Why was this guy obsessed with Valentine?_

Robin Sutteridge put the photographs back into the envelope, before pinning Backstrom with his gaze. “You took him from me Everett Backstrom, and now you're gonna give him back. Do we have an understanding?”

Backstrom stared at him and then at the syringes before giving a decisive nod.

“Oh, and don't even think about involving your people in this.” The man smiled, showing his teeth, then his gaze lifted from Backstrom to somewhere behind him, and he nodded. Before Backstrom could wonder about it, he was being knocked out.

\---

Backstrom surged out of his chair, stumbling over his footstool in his rush, eyes darting everywhere. But there was no one in sight, and if not for the syringes and business card, he would've thought it a dream.

Grabbing a half empty bottle of beer, he was mid-sip when he realised that the shower was running. _Valentine was home!_ Backstrom’s gaze fell to the syringes, and without thinking it through, he picked them up and jabbed them into his thigh.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing _Backstrom_... and yes, there will hopefully be more.
> 
> Thank you for giving this a read, I hope you enjoyed! ♥ Feedback would be loved.


End file.
